Mea Culpa

2 November 2007 21:48

MonsignoreMea CulpaSeattle, WA – Forgiveness comes easy when we love someone… maybe too easy. But when we care for someone, we want to believe they can do better. And when they make full allocution and ask for absolution, we are compelled by our heart to pardon and extend them a second chance.

Hell, let’s face it: boys are no angels. They make mistakes and sometimes disappoint us. God knows I have made my share of mistakes and disappointed those I’ve loved on more than one occasion. I’ve learned from those experiences and those lessons have led to a better understanding and stronger character. I know my boys will fuck up at times. I don’t expect perfection. I can only offer my counsel and guidance, and trust that they will recognize them as opportunities for growth.

This doesn’t mean we must excuse every transgression. There have been boys I have had to separate from my life. There are some behaviors that are incompatible with my principles and actions that, when repeated, are simply intolerable. While I would welcome back any boy who has worn my collar, so long as those behaviors persist, they can be no part of my life. It does no good to coddle the boys with whom I’ve been involved. They are all strong willed and independent individuals. I would have it no other way. They choose either an existence that includes me or one that does not.

This week back in Seattle, I’m spending time to reconnect with some of my local boys. It’s been good. I’ve seen my Thai boy, TJ, and he’s pulling his life together. He has keep a good job at Starbucks and it seems he’s doing well. He’s been working out and still has a taste for rope. I’ve enjoyed his company and have asked him to accompany me to a bondage workshop on Sunday.

Last night I got to see Christopher again. I asked him to come over and cut my hair. Afterward, we went to Charlie’s for dinner and had a good conversation. He’s going through a rough time, torn between what he wants and what he’s willing to sacrifice. He asked for a scene and I gave it to him, stopping only when I was concerned the screams might attract attention. He broke down, apologized for hurting me and asked for my forgiveness. He has that and my sincere desire that he find happiness in his life. I hope I can be a part of it.

The composite photographs I’ve chosen for this post were taken over Labor Day weekend of Christopher, in my collar and the red & black wings of a fallen angel. The images epitomize much of what this post is about. The scene included my boy Derek from Chicago in addition to Christopher and myself. The three of us invested much in creating the spectacle. Christopher was flying high on endorphins by the time we arrived at the Cuff that Friday and quickly became the center of attention. Then the pain and blood at the end of the scene was so much like a price to pay.

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